Chance Meetings
by audiodroplets
Summary: The improbable occurrence of seeing someone you used to know. The story of her life.


_**A/N: I have never written Harry/Hermione before. Nor have I done anything but dabbled in smut. Forgive me if I brutalize the art. : Also, everything you recognize is JKR's and minor inspiration from John Mayer's "Dreaming with a broken heart." Please review. I never feel like anyone likes my writing when I have few or no reviews. : I'm begging you. ;  
**_

She inadvertently slammed her books down on the table as she stumbled into her apartment. Her hair was frizzier than usual, her head hurt more than usual, but the stress level had been constant for the five years after the war ended. The war lasted a year, and now everything was supposed to be back to normal.

But it wasn't and Hermione couldn't come to terms with that just yet. She kept herself busy to keep her mind off of the fact that she'd lost contact with her best friends – her two heroes, her Harry and her Ron – for no apparent reason. Well, that was half true. She distanced herself from Ron because he was starting to get a little obsessive and claimed he was in love with her, and the feeling was in no way mutual. But Harry…That was a different story.

Hermione walked into her bedroom to rummage around for a bottle of headache relief. She gulped the liquid down with a wince, and padded over to her mirror.

_Well, at least I don't look emaciated – only exhausted_, she thought as she studied her body. _I haven't lost the few curves I had._ She yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it to her laundry basket. The pants followed suit. She flipped her sheets back to find her nightgown and tugged it on.

A notebook on her desk caught her eye as out of place and she picked it up off of the precarious stack of papers. The last pages were ripped out and some remaining ones were shredded.

_I don't remember doing that..._

Her eyes travelled the floor and landed on a ball of crumpled paper. Thinking that they were the missing pages, she picked them up.

_I haven't ever been able to tell you how much I love you. I haven't even been able to say it once. By the time you read this -_

The messy script stopped abruptly, she flipped it over, looking for what would happen or who it was addressed to. No other ink was on the paper.

_Curious..._

She smoothed the paper and stuck it in the cover of the notebook, putting it back on the pile. She switched off the light and went to bed, contemplating the identity of the person who wrote the note, and why.

As sleep overcame her, a shadow of a man walked through the room to the desk, snatched up the note and sauntered off.

_His hair fell across his face as he looked at her with piercing green eyes. A single tear streamed down his face. She started running towards him but she never reached him._

Her eyes snapped open, her breathing stopped, and she stood up out of bed.

_Was he really here? Is he standing in my room?_

Her brown eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of him. They were only met with the silent goodbye of her dream. She fell to her knees, sobs wracking her body. Her curly hair fell forward as she buried her face in her hands. She clamored back into bed and shut her eyes, hoping for images of his face again.

_Could you just please stay, my love? Will you wake up by my side?_

Overcast skies greeted her as she stepped out of her lonely green door.

_Fitting_, she thought as she pulled up her hood and fixed her gaze on impending puddles.  
_Splish splash splish_. Her rainboots kept her feet dry, but she's past the point of caring. All she could hear was her face raining into the puddle on the ground as her feet slowed. The gray skies enfolded her in their cold, wet embrace and her body is wracked with sobs as she tried to forget her nightly torture – her nightly loss of Harry.

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, she straightened her back, and kept walking through the drizzle. Her feet took her to the café at the corner of her street and she stood at the window for a moment. In that moment, she saw the reflection of someone looking at her from across the street, someone strangely familiar.

_No. I'm just hallucinating. This is Muggle London – it's a one in a million chance he'd just happen upon my street. Stop torturing yourself._

But, the reflection didn't fade away. It was walking toward her. She turned, half expecting to be sorely disappointed, and was greeted with the green eyes she'd been dreaming about for the past 5 years.

"Har–" was all she managed to get out before his lips crashed into hers. All she felt was warmth and she kissed him back with all of the emotion she had been pushing away for so many years. Their tongues danced and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, while he pulled her close by her hips.

"Gods, I've wanted to do that so badly, Hermione," Harry said softly as he pulled out of the kiss.

"You've no idea," she mumbled into his chest. He lifted her chin with his hand and her hood fell back.

"I missed you." He looked deep into her honey brown eyes and his grip on her back pulled her closer to him and she could feel the heat emanating off of him. Their kiss was hungrier, this time – an unspoken understanding of emotions heated their cores. Both were breathing heavily and neither noticed the rain increasing to a downpour. The few people that had been on the street scurried into warmer, drier locations.

Hermione backed into the wall next to the café, dragging Harry along with her. His shirt was completely soaked through and her hair was dripping, but their lips remain locked.

She snaked her arms around his back and pulled him flush against her. She could feel his erection throbbing through his jeans against her stomach and her entire body started tingling and she shivered. Harry tried to pull his head back from hers, but she moved hers with his, keeping the contact.

He slid his hands down to her thighs and pushed up her skirt. He slid his hand in between her legs and her hips bucked out to meet his palm. His fingers curled under the elastic of her panties and he slowly dipped two fingers into her warmth.

She arched her back and their kiss ended, raindrops falling on her upturned face. He rhythmically continued his ministrations and Hermione buried her head in his neck, moaning softly. She unhooked her arms and rubbed her hands down his chest to his jeans, where she rubbed her palm against his denim covered length. Harry moaned and took his hand from her panties. She made a small sound of disapproval as he microscopically moved back.

"Step out of your boots," Harry said. Hermione gave him a questioning glance, but complied. She shivered when her bare feet touched the wet ground, and Harry's thumbs hooked into her underwear and dragged it down her thighs, his touch leaving burning paths on her thighs, until the fabric dropped to the ground with no assistance.

Hermione blushed and was about to speak when Harry's mouth enveloped hers again and his fingers slid back into her, increasing speed with every stroke. She fumbled with his belt, pants, and underwear, but finally managed to free his manhood, which was pressed up against her stomach. Her breathing was becoming more and more erratic and she untangled her tongue from his and buried her head in his neck again.

"Harry, I'm a virgin," she whispered, her face going redder than it previously was.

"That's alright," Harry replied, "You don't have to do a thing."

With that, he maneuvered his hands around to the backs of her thighs and he hoisted her up against the wall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He shifted his hips so that he was positioned at her entrance, and he could feel the wet heat and almost came then and there. He looked Hermione in the eyes and slowly, he eased his way inside her, never breaking eye contact.

She gasped at the pain, and Harry paused – already almost overwhelmed with the slick, tight hot that was enveloping him – until she nodded and he pushed all the way in. Hermione moaned and shut her eyes, and Harry kissed his way along her neck and collar bone as he moved back out.

He took a deep breath as he thrust faster into her and Hermione started moving her hips to his rhythm, meeting him stroke for stroke – driving him close to the edge. Hermione was gripping his shoulders tighter with every stroke and he could feel that she was getting close to climax. Her moans started to rise in volume, then she was saying his name over and over, then her breath caught, her eyes snapped open, and her muscles started quivering.

The tightening and squeezing around his member drove Harry over the edge, and he yelped "Hermione," into the chilly air as he shuddered and released himself in her.

He rested his head against her shoulder.

"I love you, Hermione." Harry lowered her to the ground and she kissed him on the lips.

"I love you, too," she said. Hermione bent down, stuffed her underwear into her boots, tucked both boots under her arm and stood watching Harry refasten his trousers.

Harry caught Hermione's hand as she went slapping her bare feet on the sidewalk beside him and they walked back down the avenue to her apartment.


End file.
